


My Beloved Monster and Me, We Go Everywhere Together

by junkster



Series: Numbered Days [3]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alex is a Hacker, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Link is a Hacker, M/M, Mike is a Spy, Multi, Rhett is a Spy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21631801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkster/pseuds/junkster
Summary: Mike died fourteen months ago, taken out by bullets meant for Alex, and everything changed.
Relationships: Mike Criscimagna/Alex Punch, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Numbered Days [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559131
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	My Beloved Monster and Me, We Go Everywhere Together

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [mission success](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555745) by [serpentkinglink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentkinglink/pseuds/serpentkinglink). 
  * Inspired by [Shamelessly So Unafraid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594814) by [junkster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkster/pseuds/junkster). 

> Malex, never forgotten, never forsaken. Long live the Malex!
> 
> Thanks again to serpentkinglink for letting me play in the Spy world!

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


“Why’re we being summoned at this time of night?” Link complains, following Rhett out of the elevator. “Don’t they know the meaning of ‘day off’?”

Rhett pushes the door to Stevie’s office open and holds it for Link to walk in first, under his arm. “It’s gotta be something serious, I guess. See if you can get through the next ten minutes without antagonising someone, hmm?”

Link reaches up to push his glasses up his nose, frowning. “If -”

He’s cut off by Stevie, throwing open the adjoining door from Morgan's office with an unusual lack of finesse, her long hair messy as though she’s been running her hands through it. She looks at them with eyes sharper than ice shards, standing behind her desk and curling her fingers over the back of her chair. 

“You’re late,” she says, glancing at the clock on the wall and then back at them, daring them to challenge her. 

Link’s expression begins to harden into a scowl and Rhett lays a surreptitious hand at the small of his back, reining him in.

“The elevators are out of order again,” he lies easily. “We had to walk up.”

“Sure,” she says wryly. “You look real out of breath.”

“What can I say, we’re in our prime.”

She smiles a little, just a flash of a second, then she’s reaching for a USB from her computer and handing it over to Link. “This has all the info you need. Transfer it to your phone, memorise it, whatever. Just make sure you destroy it as soon as you can.”

Link nods, closing his fingers around the tiny flash drive. “This a bad one, Stevie?”

She hesitates, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “Yes and no. I don’t foresee any violence, no resistance, but...you may see some things that’ll be hard to process.”

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


“All the info?” Link repeats irritably as he scans the data on his phone. “All the info, she says? There’s nothing here, man! We have directions of where to go, which is a hospital near Vegas, by the way, and that’s about it.”

“Then I guess that’s all we need to know,” Rhett says diplomatically, keeping his eyes on the road. “Just sit back and relax, Link. We got a four hour drive ahead of us.”

Link groans. “Four hours there, four back? I’m gonna need some coffee, man…”

“Already planned it into the itinerary, son.”

“You mind if I put some music on?”

Rhett gestures towards the radio. “Have at it.”

Link wires his phone to the usb socket and runs through his playlist, finally settling on some Merle, a favourite of both of theirs. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, then wedges himself into the corner of his seat so he can watch Rhett’s face, shadows and streaks of light from the freeway painting him in shades of grey.

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


It takes three hours, forty-two minutes to get there, pretty good considering the pitstop for coffee and getting momentarily lost in the huge maze of the hospital’s parking lot.

Rhett wakes Link with a gentle shake of the shoulder, giving him a moment to come around before gesturing with his head towards the door. “We’re here, bo. You ready?”

Link wipes a hand across his eyes, frowns up at the bright lights of the hospital entrance, then groans. “Do we even know what we’re doing?”

“Nope,” Rhett says easily, climbing out of his side of the car and stretching, long limbs unfurling, fingers pointing up at the cloudy night sky. “Sooner we get in there, the sooner we can go, I guess.” 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Link says as he follows suit. “Why’re we here?”

“It’s a hospital, Link, what’re you expecting?” Rhett asks, checking his guns before zipping up his jacket. “Villains with grenades?” 

“Maybe. We’ve seen crazier things. What’s the room number?”

“Four-three-four. I’m guessing it’s gonna be some poor bastard with info Stevie needs.”

“Could be a perp? Someone who’s been on the run.”

“Only one way to find out,” Rhett says with a sigh, and he leads the way inside.

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


“Why isn’t anyone stopping us?” Link asks out of the side of his mouth, as they bypass yet another registration desk and head for the elevators. “You think Stevie’s sent out pictures of our faces or something?” 

“You spoke too soon, Link,” Rhett says, eyes zeroing in on the doctor heading straight for them. “Jinxed us.”

“Dang it.”

The doctor greets them with a nod and a crook of his finger, indicating for them to follow him as he does an about-turn, leading them into a room marked ‘No unauthorized personnel’. Link shrugs at Rhett and follows him in, surprised to find himself in a restroom, of all places.

“Doctor Sager,” the guy introduces himself, nodding at them again rather than reaching out to shake their hands, his own encased in blue latex gloves. “I had some warning from Stevie that you’d be here.”

“You know Stevie?” Rhett asks.

He nods. “I used to work for the department, in the medical wing, years ago now. She called to let me know you’d be picking up the patient.”

“We, uh…” Link glances at Rhett before looking at the doctor earnestly. “We don’t actually know what we’re here for. She told us to prepare ourselves for some weird crap, but…”

“Yeah, you’re in for something of a shock, I’m afraid. The paperwork’s all been completed by Stevie, so I’ll take you to him and then it’s up to you guys to have him out of here in the next hour. The bed’s already been claimed by someone down in ER. Follow me.”

Room four-three-four is just one of a number that lines the corridor above. Most of the doors are open, but this one’s closed. Sager comes to a halt and jerks a thumb towards it, already starting to walk away again as he says: “This is you. Try not to make a scene, okay?”

And then he’s gone, and Link’s left to look up at Rhett in utter confusion. “What the hell, dude? What’s the big secret here? Is this an alien? Are we about to take charge of the first extra-terrestrial?”

Rhett shrugs, reaches for the handle, and walks in.

The door closes behind Link just as Rhett lets out a sound of utter, utter denial. Link whips his head around, prepared for a fight, every muscle in his body ready for action suddenly until...

...No.

“_Fuck_…” Rhett says softly.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, swamped by a hoodie that’s two sizes too big for him, Mike looks at them with dark, dark eyes. 

_Mike_.

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


Link dreams about Mike, sometimes. He wasn't there, the night Mike died, but he heard about it from others on the team who were there - Eddie and John - with enough detail to give his brain a clear picture that it sometimes feels the need to remind him of, dredging it all back up for him. The mission had gone to plan until a rogue, undiscovered laser alarm system was tripped as Alex and Mike ran to make their getaway, five or six guys with automatic rifles flooding into the parking lot after them.

They nearly made it. The truck was waiting for them, Jen behind the wheel, John hanging out of the rear window and Eddie down on one knee, both of them trying to provide cover, but as they ran and Mike turned his head and saw the red dots converge on the back of Alex's head, he swerved into the firing line and pushed Alex forward and into Eddie's arms.

The way John told it, Eddie had to drag Alex kicking and screaming into the truck, the volley of gunfire too much for them to fight back, a second wave of gunmen appearing from another set of stairs. John saw Mike in the rearview mirror as he drove the hell out of there, lifeless and still on the concrete, a pool of blood around his head.

There was no chance to try and recover Mike's body. Alex tried, begging Stevie to let them go back in, but it was too dangerous; would've been like going into the lion's den. Alex descended into despair, his once happy-go-lucky disposition a thing of the past, a deep, dark cloud of desolation filling his eyes. Link had tried everything to keep him sane, to keep him from doing something stupid. He'd gone with Alex to the psych evals, shared baby-sitting duties with Rhett so that he wasn't alone for too long, but in the end they just couldn't keep him. His mind became detached from them all, unable to handle the constant reminders of Mike and the life they'd built together. He left one night, Stevie forgoing the usual need for a few months' notice to let him go. He was gone when Link went to find him, nothing but a sad little note on his kitchen table.

'Sorry Link. I can't live here without him. Take care of yourself and Rhett. Kiss him real good for me. Love, Alex.'

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


Link’s finding it hard to breathe suddenly, hard to see, hard to swallow. Tears blur his eyes, shock prickling up the back of his scalp. He tries to take a step forward but his knees are jelly, his mind racing as he plucks up the courage to ask with cautious disbelief:

“_Mike_?”

The guy on the bed - Mike? - nods, his eyes flicking from Link to Rhett, and back again. His fingers are curled tightly over the edge of the bed, his swinging feet wearing the rattiest, most worn out pair of vans Link's ever seen. His jeans are torn at both knees and his hair's longer than it ever was, tucked back behind his ears.

“It can’t be,” Link says, voice choked with tears, shaking his head. “You can’t be…” He looks up at Rhett in disbelief, but Rhett's just standing there, stock-still, a blank mask of an expression on his face.

"I know," comes the soft voice, familiar enough to make Link's heart skip a beat. "It's a lot, right?"

Link practically _dives_ at him, winding both arms around him and clinging on for dear life, burying his face against Mike's bony shoulder. Mike brings his own arms up around Link’s back and his eyes meet Rhett's, gaze unwavering.

“You’re _alive_," Link says incredulously. "You’re alive?”

“Yeah, man. I’m alive.”

“How?”

“I never died, Link.”

The cold in Link’s lungs and chest begins to harden into ice as the true meaning of the situation starts to dawn on him. He pulls back enough to look into Mike’s face again, hands on his shoulders. “Where the hell’ve you been?” he asks quietly, voice wavering, aware that his cheeks are wet with tears and really not giving a damn. 

“Some shitty drug-den outside Vegas, somewhere...y'know. Kinda desert-y. The guys that shot me took me there, kept me alive, and then they kept me in a basement for…” Mike trails off with a frown. “How long has it been?”

“Fourteen months, Mike,” Link says, unnerved by the weird, calm detachment. “You’ve been held prisoner all that time?”

Mike nods and Link has to look away, moving to sit by his side on the bed, the lump in his throat threatens to choke him. 

Rhett moves, finally, walking the few steps to take Link’s place, looking down at Mike with silent, disbelieving hope.

“Hey, Rhett,” Mike says softly, lips quirking in a slight, barely-there smile. “You’re still alive, huh?”

Link stifles a sob.

Rhett brings both hands up to hold Mike’s face, a gentle caress that has Mike closing his eyes, dark lashes against pale skin. He leans in, and down, and presses the softest, sweetest kiss to Mike’s forehead, Mike’s hands curling around Rhett’s wrists, fingertips digging in hard enough to leave marks.

"We have to go, man," Rhett says, pulling back far enough to look searchingly into Mike's eyes. "You ready to come with us?"

Mike keeps his eyes closed, and when he speaks again he sounds wrecked and desperate. "Yes. _Please_. Get me outta here."

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


Outside the hospital, Mike stands in the parking lot and looks up at the cloudy night sky, savouring the cool, fresh air.

"You don't have any stuff, I guess?" Link asks, wiping a hand across his eyes, keeping an eye out in case they find themselves in the direct path of a speeding ambulance.

Mike shakes his head. "This hoodie isn't even mine, that doctor guy let me have it. My shirt was covered in soot and blood."

"How did you get free, man?"

Mike brings his head down, fixing Link with a frighteningly detached look. "I set the place on fire."

Link glances towards Rhett, who's watching them with an uncertain wariness. "Oh..."

“Hey, not that I don’t appreciate you guys coming, but…”

Mike hesitates - there's an unusual trepidation in his voice. Link's mouth twists with regret. 

“Alex? He's not on the force anymore, Mike,” he says quietly. “He’s okay, as far as we know, but he’s in some little town near Vancouver. We haven’t seen him since…”

“Oh,” Mike says, then more softly: “Oh.”

“We’re gonna find him, though,” Link promises vehemently. “Just as soon as we get you home, man. Speaking of which...” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a number so familiar it's like muscle memory. "Hey, Stevie," he greets. "We got him. I need to ask your permission to veer off from your instructions a little."

“Go ahead.”

“I wanna go get Alex.”

“You know where he is?”

“Not exactly, but I know how to contact him and find out. Mike's hungry, tired and the doc said he's got some symptoms of smoke inhalation. I figure it'd be a good idea for him and Rhett to stay in a hotel here tonight, close to the hospital, get some good rest, then drive home tomorrow."

Stevie considers for a moment. “You and Rhett are both happy to split up for this?”

"Yeah. I can't spring this on Alex over the phone, Stevie." 

"I understand. Fine, your plan sounds sensible. Tell Rhett to go for a motel, use a credit card that can't be traced, fake names. Oh and Link?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm booking your flights right now. Text me the nearest airport to where Alex is."

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


"This is, uh...nice," Mike says, standing in the middle of a dull and dreary motel room. "Still not quite living the James Bond lifestyle, huh?"

"After living in a basement for over a year I figured you wouldn't mind," Rhett says with a smirk, pleased when Mike smiles back at him. "Sit down, man. Take a load off. You want something to eat?"

Mike shakes his head, sitting down on the end of the king-sized bed and folding his hands together between his thighs. "I'm not really hungry. Haven't been used to eating a lot, I think my stomach's shrunk actually."

"Yeah, the doctor said you had a little malnourishment going on. Said you had some broken bones that hadn't healed right, and some scars he was concerned about, but aside from that. Well, and the smoke."

"Yeah, my throat's a little raw. You think there's a vending machine?"

"I'll go take a look. Hold on."

"No rush," Mike says absently, reaching for the remote.

Rhett sticks his head out of their door and looks one way and then the other along their balcony, heading out when he spots the glow of a machine further down. He delves in his pocket for coins and takes a deep breath of cold air as he looks down the list of drinks, leaning a hand against the glowing frontage for a moment.

If he's being honest with himself he wishes Link was still there to help him out, the whole situation weighing weirdly on his shoulders. Six hours ago, Mike was long-dead. Now they're supposed to just go right back to how things were? Rhett sighs as he presses the button for a coke, listening to the 'thunk thunk' as it hits on the way down.

He thinks about Link, sitting on that plane to Vancouver, feeling that tug and pull at his chest he always feels when they get far apart. He thinks about Alex, and doesn't envy Link the task of breaking the news to him.

When he gets back to the room, Mike's sitting there absently gazing at a news anchor as she discusses the state of the weather with the weatherman. He looks up at Rhett, smiling slightly as he catches the cold coke that Rhett throws to him.

"Thanks."

Rhett pops the top of his own and sits next to him on the bed, dinking their cans together. "Tell me more about this drug-den of yours," he says. "Were you like a prisoner, or holed up in the basement, or what?"

"To begin with, yeah, they actually kept me chained up down there. Then as time went on I was still in the basement, but no chains." Mike looks down at his fingers as they wipe across the condensation on his coke. "It wasn't hell. I mean, they let me wash, I was fed, I had a toothbrush for god's sake. But I didn't see a whole lot of daylight. And they tortured me, for a while."

Rhett's stomach tightens. He'd been waiting for this, and it still feels like a kick in the solar plexus. "They wanted info from you?"

Mike nods. "I guess that's why they kept me. They thought I must have something of use to them, or they thought they'd be able to bargain with me maybe."

"What did they do to you, man?"

Mike presses in with one of his thumbs, the can dimpling under the force. "Withheld food and water. Sensory deprivation. Days and days of darkness and silence. They tried every trick in the book in terms of things that might get to me, like claustrophobia, vertigo, all that stuff. There was one guy who liked to practise with a baseball bat. It was all pretty tame, I guess, compared to some of the things we see, but after a few months it was getting pretty rough. I mean, they tried. They tried their best.”

“You never broke?”

Mike shakes his head. “To my surprise, no. And then they gradually kind of lost interest in me. I think they just kept me in case I came in useful for something. They fed me, they let me outside, sometimes. They must’ve had something planned, but I guess they left it too late.”

Rhett looks sideways at him. “How'd you start that fire?”

“They got a little lazy. I started collecting bits and pieces, here and there. Newspapers, sticks from the garden, an aerosol from the trash that still had some hairspray in there. They thought I was done for, hopeless, like I had Stockholm Syndrome or something. Wasn’t too hard to get a spark started.”

“In the basement? You could’ve burned to death down there, man.”

“I’d decided it was a risk worth taking. I really _was_ starting to feel pretty hopeless, y’know?”

"One of them let you out?"

"They came looking for the source of the smoke, I guess. I punched my way out. Turns out most of them died in there, too intent on saving their meth and weed to get out in time."

"Jesus, Mike. I still can't believe it, man. I can't believe I'm sitting here, talking to you. I knew you were tough, but this is crazy."

Mike smiles. "Alex always used to joke about me being scared of everything, y'know? And he was right, I mean, I was germ-phobic, pain-phobic, death-phobic...in fact, I still have no fucking clue why I got into this business, y'know? Alex was the brave one."

"You were both brave, he's just more impulsive than you," Rhett say frankly. "I'll never forget the first mission you went on, how you came back covered in blood from head to toe, you remember that?"

"Yeah, of course. I thought I'd lost my mind."

"You got shot in the leg and you had to kill two guys up close and personal, and you _stayed_, man. You went through that on your first mission and you still stayed."

"Hell of a thrill, huh?" Mike says wryly, squashing the can in his fist and tossing it towards the trash can in the corner of the room. "You of all people understands me, I guess."

Rhett reaches out, curling a hand around the back of his neck, squeezing gently. "Yeah, I understand. I understand how, as soon as you're thrown into the thick of it, the only thing that matters is keeping your partner safe. And how that becomes kind of an addiction."

Mike turns his head to look at him, big eyes almost black under the too-white strip light overhead. He nods, then Rhett feels a tremor as he shivers visibly.

“Sorry,’ he says. "‘S been a while since anyone touched me. A friend, I mean.”

“Sorry,” Rhett echoes quietly, but as he begins to pull his hand away one of Mike’s shoots out to grab his wrist, holding him there. 

“I didn’t mean you should stop,” he murmurs.

Rhett brings his hand around, running his thumb slowly across Mike’s cheek. “Tell me if you want me to, okay?”

Mike nods, closing his eyes as Rhett tucks a long strand of his hair back behind his ear. The sight of that darkness against his hand takes Rhett back to better times, some of the odd days where Alex was sent on hacking missions with the Information Retrieval team, leaving Mike in their capable hands. The feeling of being in the middle of a Mike and Link sandwich, surrounded by dark hair and pale skin, one pair of ice-blue eyes (the bluest Rhett's ever had the good fortune to lose himself in) and one pair of the darkest brown. Two completely different animals, two intense, passionate hearts. 

"You remember Esenada?"

"Of course," Mike says quietly. "Simultaneously the most terrifying and most amazing night of my life."

"You nearly died. _Link_ nearly died. Alex came so close to being shot it took a hole out of the sleeve of his shirt. And then all four of us got our asses handed to us trying to hold those cartel guys 'til the police turned up."

"It was like eight hours of running on adrenaline and fear. Just one bad thing after another. I really thought we were done for, man."

"Yeah. We did it, though. We did what we set out to do."

"And then we got to the safe house."

"Yeah," Rhett says quietly, pulling his hand away. He crushes his empty can and throws it underarm towards the trash, where it lands on top of Mike's. 

"Is he still gonna love me, Rhett? What if he's moved on? What if he hates me for what happened? What if -"

"C'mon, man." Rhett reaches out to take one of Mike's hands, holding it between both of his own. "He loves you so badly he had to move to some godforsaken little town where it snows half of the year and no one knows his name. He's been living in purgatory, Mike."

Mike's face falls, eyes dropping to the floor. "I don't know that I don't hate my_self_, Rhett. I should've tried harder."

"You did everything right. You survived."

"But Alex has suffered so much."

"And so did you. But you guys're, what, thirty? You've got your whole lives ahead of you now, man. You get to be together, now."

Mike looks doubtful as he glances over towards the bathroom, at the dark doorway in the corner of the room. "I hope you're right, Rhett."

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


The flight to Vancouver is only three hours, but that night, to Link, it feels interminable. In the check-in before hand, he'd managed to get Alex up on WhatsApp and told him the basics: That he was on his way to Vancouver, needed to meet him there, and to make sure his house was secure and everything to rights for a few hours. Alex, to his credit, just texted back a simple 'OK', not even questioning it. That erratic, always ready to go lifestyle of the hacker hadn't left him, clearly.

As Link walks out of the entrance of Vancouver International and out into the parking lot, he looks at his phone and sees another message saying 'P3'. He looks around, notes the signs denoting various parking bays, and starts walking. It's cold enough to force his hands into the pockets of his jacket, the collar up around his neck and his eyes on the dusting of snow on the ground, listening to the soft 'crunch, crunch' of every footstep. He looks up as he passes 'P2' and catches sight of a lone figure up ahead of him, leaning back against a car that's roof has a good three inches of snow on the top of it. Link keeps walking, and then at some point his feet just come to a halt of their own volition, and he squints through the grey and white of the early morning.

Alex looks...older. Before that fateful day that had eventually chased him from the force, his hair had been bleached blonde and his eyes had been bright with life and love and a seemingly permanent smile.

Standing there in the snow, he looks like a different person. Wrapped in a thick, black wool sweater and with his arms around himself he looks small and thin and vulnerable, and when he reaches up to push a hand through his hair and brush the snowflakes away, it's styled short and dark. He still smiles as Link gets closer, but every inch closer Link gets he sees that those eyes are different now; older, more wary.

Alex looks at him for a long, long moment, like he's drinking in the sight, then he steps forwards and wraps Link up in the biggest, tightest bear hug Link's been privileged to receive in a long, long time.

One of Alex's hands digs into the back of Link's neck, the other in the back of his jacket, holding him close as Link does the same, feeling as though his heart's cracking into pieces in his chest. For the second time in less than twelve hours, he wants to cry.

"Hey, man," he says softly, turning his head to press a kiss to Alex's cold, smooth cheek. "Hey."

“Are you okay?" Alex asks, his voice muffled against Link's throat, a little raw as though he hasn't used it much lately. "Is Rhett okay?”

“Yeah, man, we’re fine. We're fine. Lemme look at you." Link slowly disentangles himself from Alex's grip and takes hold of his face, lifting his chin up so he can see the change in those familiar eyes. He steels himself. "Sorry I had to be so vague on you. I have something pretty unbelievable to tell you, and I needed to tell you in person. There was no way I was tellin' you this over the phone, not when you were all alone up here.”

Alex cocks his head, brows creased in a frown. "You wanna come back to my place? Why did you want me to lock up, and everything?"

"Can we get in the car?"

Alex shrugs, looking more and more anxious by the second. He gets into the driver's seat as Link goes around to the passenger side, and as they climb in and shut the doors there's a sudden silence and warmth that has Link's blood pressure rising as fear tries to climb up his throat. He breathes for a second, every exhale coming out as a cloud of vapour. Alex has had the heater on, and it's a dramatic change to the icy grey of the world outside. 

“Alex...you remember that day, fourteen months ago?”

Alex’s shoulders visibly drop, and Link feels like the world's biggest bastard. “Only every day, man.”

“There's no easy way to say this, man. We fucked up.”

“Meaning?”

Link hesitates, anticipation of the extremity of Alex’s reaction making his heart beat wildly with fear. “Mike’s alive, Alex.”

Slowly, a cold, stony, emotionless mask slips down over Alex’s face. 

“When you saw him there," Link continues, "shot and bleeding, they had to drag you away because they were still firing at you. We never got his body back, and now we know why: They took him.”  


“They took his dead body.”

“No. They took him alive. He didn’t die, man. They’ve kept him hostage all this time, stuck in a basement in the ass-end of Nevada somewhere, and two days ago he escaped, and now we have him. We _have him_, Alex.”

Alex shakes his head, tears starting to shine in his eyes. “Stop fucking with me, Link. I can’t do this. Why're you - ”

"It's true, man. I couldn't believe it either, but it's true - I wouldn't ever, ever fuck with you on this, you know that. You trust me, don't you?"

Alex just looks at him, a tear tracking down his cheek as he shakes his head helplessly. "It can't be true, Link."

Feeling the situation start to run away, Link reaches into his pocket for his phone and holds it in his hand, taking a deep breath. He starts calling Rhett on facetime. "I'mm'a prove it to you, man," he says softly. "Just...steel yourself, okay?"

The video connects. Rhett’s sitting on the edge of a bed in a dingy motel room, and as he switches the frame to landscape Link sees that Mike is right next to him.

“Rhett,” he says, “I’m here with Alex. Are you guys ready?”

Mike nods, dark eyes showing a hint of terror that Link’s not used to seeing. 

Link looks at Alex one more time, turns the volume up, and holds the phone out to him. Alex stares at the screen. His hand comes up to his mouth. Watching the succession of pain and emotion on his face feels like someone's reached into Link's chest and squeezed. 

Mike’s whole expression changes, wariness and fear exchanged for soft, exhausted, disbelieving hope. “Alex...” he says reverently. “_Alex_…”

Alex’s hand trembles violently as he holds back a sob. “Mike?” he dares to breathe. 

“I’m so sorry, man,” Mike says urgently. “I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t get to you, I tried so hard - ”

“_Mike?_ All this time…”

“I know. God, I know.”

“I don’t know...I don’t understand. I can’t believe this,” Alex looks frantically at Link, an alarming panic in his eyes, then back at the video. “It’s not real, right? This is my fucked up brain again?”

“It’s real, man,” Link tells him gently. “Look at him. Listen to that voice. I’mm’a take you to him, as soon as you’re ready.”

"Oh, God..._Mike_…” Alex whispers, voice breaking, and then his arms are on the steering wheel and his head is down towards his knees and he’s _crying_, soul-wrenching and desperate. 

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


Mike sits, frozen in place, silent tears escaping from under his lashes, his eyes closed tightly. Rhett holds his hand, his other arm wound tight around the miserable curve of his back.

"I'm sorry, man," he soothes, feeling Mike's body shake under his touch. "That was..." He shakes his head. He can't even describe how rough it was, seeing Alex break down.

Mike swallows hard, reaching up to wipe at his eyes angrily. "I feel like shit, Rhett. I feel like the worst, most useless piece of shit in the world."

"You're not," Rhett says simply, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. "You're gonna be okay, man. You're both gonna be okay. You're gonna see him in just a few hours, and he's gonna hold you, and you'll know. Didn't you see him, man? He's still so in love with you. I know it's hard now, but this is gonna turn out to be one of the best days of our lives. We got you back, Mike."

Mike looks at him hopelessly. "I don't even know what's happened in the world in the last year, Rhett. I don't know what I'm gonna do with my life. I've got two fingers that don't even move anymore they've been broken so many times, I'm like a walking skeleton and I have flashbacks that take my breath away. I'm a wreck, dude. I'm..."

"You're okay," Rhett says again gently, rubbing a hand slowly up and down Mike's back. "We all love you, man. We're all a little damaged, when it comes down to it. You're not alone in this."

Mike closes his eyes, a bone-deep sigh escaping him. "God. He looked so broken. The fucking..._happiest_ person in my life."

Rhett doesn't say anymore, just carries on that slow, steady stroke of his hand along Mike's spine. They'd always found strength in each other, always the most likely to just sit in silence together, enjoying each other's presence without the need for words.

The local news on the tv changes over to some sort of talk show. Rhett reaches for the remote, turning the sound down a little.

Eventually, after a few, still minutes, Mike rubs a hand across his face and sits up a little straighter. He looks at Rhett, hair falling in front of his eyes.

"You wanna try and get a few hours sleep?"

"Sure. We probably should."

"You mind if we leave the tv on low? I'm not too good with dark, silent rooms anymore."

"'Course," Rhett says quietly, watching as Mike stands to take off that borrowed hoodie. As he slips out of it, Rhett has to stop himself from staring, realising the doctor had not been kidding about Mike's welfare.

"Jesus, Mike," he can't help himself saying in wonder, his hands half-way through unlacing his sneakers.

"I know," Mike says casually, looking down at himself with a wrinkle of his nose. "Pretty skinny, huh? The doctor said I'd have to eat small and often."

"I thought you said they fed you?"

"They did. Once a day. But I was trying to stay in shape enough to escape if I could, so I guess I burned a lot of it up doing press-ups."

"Yeah, I can tell." Rhett gets up, moving closer to walk around Mike, clocking at least two gunshot scars. "How many times did they shoot you, man?"

"Three. There's one here, see?" Mike pushes a hand into his hair and flips a section up away from his left ear. There, just above, is a scar, some of the hair growing silver instead of black. "Just grazed me. Bled like fuck."

Rhett shakes his head, reaching out to just touch the raised skin gently. "That's one hell of a close call, Mike."

"Just goes to show how little our vests protect us, I guess."

Rhett tips his head in agreement, eyes drifting lower. "You sure you don't want some food right now?"

"Nah, I couldn't. As soon as I can eat normally again without throwing up, I'll give you a call, okay?"

"Josh'd know what to give you. We should get him to write you up a meal plan or something."

Mike slides across the bed to lie down on the side closest to the door, tilting his head in surprise. "Josh is still there?"

"Yeah - you remember him? I thought he came after..."

"I met him, like, twice. He made Alex laugh. I liked him."

"Yeah, he's a good guy. You know he was an agent before?"

"Like us?"

"Yeah. In Philly, though. He had to leave after an accident fucked things up."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Mike says, watching as Rhett hauls off his sweater and t-shirt and sits down on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks. "Hey...I missed you, dude. I missed you and Link so bad. I'm glad you're okay."

Rhett looks at him over his shoulder, surprised by the sudden non-sequitur. "I keep forgetting that you had no idea about any of us, how we were."

"For all I knew, Alex died, and Eddie, and John..." Mike pauses. "Actually, I still don't know - are Eddie and John okay?"

"Yeah, they're doing fine, man. John moved to another state a while back, but Eddie's still around. He's still doing armed response, still a badass."

"Good. I wanna tell him thanks for getting Alex outta there that night. Can't have been easy."

"He's gonna be so pumped to see you. Everyone is, Lazarus."

Mike smiles, watching as Rhett tugs off his jeans and throws them over the side of the nearest chair, then slides into bed next to him. Rhett turns his head, smiles back at him.

"You likely to have any nightmares?" he asks.

"Yep. You?"

"Yeah. Guess we might not get much sleep, between us."

Mike shifts onto his left hip, turning slightly to look at Rhett head-on. He hesitates for a long, silent moment before asking awkwardly: "Would you kiss me, dude? Just once?"

Rhett holds his gaze, searching, experiencing a sudden cavalcade of images; past memories of being so close to those big, brown eyes. Memories of the things they'd done, together. "You don't wanna wait for Alex?"

Mike closes his eyes, his voice lowering to a soft plea. "Please, man...I'm so fucking touch-starved right now. It's been so long..."

Rhett's helpless in the face of such vulnerability. He's in Mike's space before he can think too much more about it, tilting Mike's face up to his and pressing their lips together in a soft, lingering kiss, closing his own eyes as he savours the sweet, unbelievable moment. Mike practically crawls into his lap, the quiet sound of relief he makes shutting down the logical voice in Rhett's brain. Lighter than he should be, skinner than he should be, bruised and scarred and damaged, Mike is still Mike. And Mike is _alive_. 

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


“Tell me why you love Mike, man. Tell me more about him," Link says quietly, turning his head against the back of his seat to look at Alex, who's gazing at the screens above the check-in desk. He's still a little dazed, still anxious enough that his hand is icy cold under Link's, but he's aware and in the present and cognizant, at least. He turns his head to look at Link, blinking as he manages a small, sad smile.

“I remember when we were partnered up, we seemed like chalk and cheese, y’know? He was so wary of letting anyone in, and he never even seemed to smile, while I was like the office joker around the place. And then it took one mission, man. That’s all I needed to find out that he was actually a goofball with a batshit sense of humour like mine. The way he'd take off his clothes after a mission, guns and holsters and bullet-proof vest, and then pull on a beanie and a t-shirt that looked like he'd had it since he was fifteen. I can still remember the first time he smiled at me, feeling like I was the greatest fucking person in the world because I’d made that smile, and it was centred on me and me only, y’know? There's something a little dark about him, sure, but once you get past that and he lets you in, he’s sweet and kind and actually weirdly open with his affection."

"Yeah, I've seen that side of him," Link says, smiling, reaching out to brush a spruce twig out of Alex's hair. "You been climbin' trees, man?"

Alex takes it from Link, turning it over in his fingers in surprise. "I had to dig my car out of a snowdrift, actually. Used a handy branch."

"You don't miss the heat of LA?"

"It's not like this year round, dude. C'mon. Times like these, though? Yeah, I really, really do."

Link leaves his hand at the back of Alex's neck, watching him with fond affection. The way Alex looks now, pale and restless, makes him think of nights where Mike was held up in the hospital wing and a worried Alex in need of distraction and a way to pour out his emotions would turn up at his and Rhett's room. He remembers the way he'd open the door to find Alex standing there, looking at him with those big, puppy-dog eyes and a different damned hairstyle every single time, without fail. He considers for a moment before asking: "Hey. You remember Esenada, man?"

Alex smiles a little, and it's almost, _almost_ reminiscent of that old, playful smile that Link's missed so much. "Of course."

"Good times, huh?"

"Kind of a mixture, if I remember correctly. You both nearly died. And me too, actually, come to think of it. For once, Rhett was the _least_ hurt."

"Yeah, you're right. But the end of the day more'n made up for it, though, right?" Link presses, shooting him a lop-sided grin. 

Alex's smile grows, a little more challenging, mischief sparking in his tired eyes as he tips his head and lowers his voice. "If you're trying to distract me with the memory of you fucking me..." he says, pausing there to hold Link's gaze for a long, hot moment before admitting quietly, "then it's working. Thanks."

"My pleasure," Link says with soft amusement, squeezing the back of Alex's neck gently. "Always was."

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


Rhett doesn't get much sleep. He lies spooned up against Mike's back, on request (a _silent_ request, Mike's body just curling into him, his hand pulling Rhett's arm over his body) and listens to Mike's slow, even breaths in the darkness, trying not to think too much about the bony ribcage under his hand. Mike seems to sleep in shifts, a pattern of wide wakefulness and deep unconsciousness, but he at least gets some rest, able to relax for probably the first time in...too long.

In the morning they shower together, an act spurred on more by the need to stay close than anything else. There's nothing sexual about it despite the tight space and proximity of naked, wet skin, just a ritual, literal washing away of the past. Rhett takes the time to map out Mike's new scars under his soapy hands, and if Mike's hands are equally as gentle with Rhett as Rhett's are with Mike, well, Rhett's not gonna think too deeply about why that might be. He knows he's accrued a fair few more since they last did this.

They leave the motel room side by side with no possessions but Rhett's guns, hidden inside his jacket, his hands smelling like cheap vanilla soap and his heart feeling a little more whole.

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


After a cab ride from LAX to headquarters, Alex begins to look really, properly tired. Link's not faring much better, the airplane food and airport coffee sitting like rocks in his stomach. The need to see Rhett again is like a physical discomfort tugging at his chest, and Mike again, for all four of them to be together, gnaws at him uncomfortably.

"You sure you're ready for this?"

Gazing up at the front door to their base, somewhere he hasn't been in so long, Alex takes a deep breath, and nods. "Are they here already?"

Link reaches out to take his hand. He's barely let go of it for the last few hours. "I don't know, man. I think so. Depends whether they got caught up in traffic or not."

Alex shakes his head. "If traffic's the only thing that keeps him from me now, I'll never complain about it again."

Link nods, and pulls him towards the steps. "C'mon, buddy. I got your back."

Alex follows. "God, I'm gonna bawl my eyes out again, aren't I? I'm such a fucking mess, Link."

"You're not a mess, man. You just love hard and unconditionally, that's why we all loved you so much. We're all gonna be crying, lemme tell ya."

And Link is not wrong. Before they've even made it to the security desk in the lobby they run slap bang into Eddie, sitting on the cold tiled floor with his head in his hands, the sleeves of his red plaid shirt rolled up, a wrecking ball of tattoos and tears. He looks up as he hears their footsteps and sees Alex, and he leaps to his feet, ploughing into Alex with all the force of a bulldozer, his arms winding around him tightly. Alex stumbles backwards, grabbing hold of him and clinging on for dear life as the weight threatens to take him down.

"Hey! he greets, the wind knocked out of him. "Hey, Eddie...you okay?"

Eddie nods vehemently against Alex's shoulder and after a few moments lifts his head, wiping an arm across his eyes, wet with tears. "I'm so happy to see you, man. I'm so fucking sorry..."

"No, don't be, dude," Alex says, eyes gentle as he reaches up to pat Eddie's face. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad to see you too. You okay?"

Eddie nods again, sniffing as he wipes the heel of his hand over his eyes once more. "I just...d'you know, already?

"Yeah, man. I know."

"He's upstairs. He's..." Eddie trails off, shaking his head as he looks towards the staircase. "I can't fucking believe it...I _saw_ him, man, I saw it happen..." 

Alex's expression is soft as he nods. "I know, dude. I know."

"You should go," Eddie says, letting him go finally and taking a step back, wiping the palms of his hands against his jeans. "I'm holdin' you up."

"I wanna talk to you later, okay?" Alex promises, reaching out to squeeze Eddie's forearm. "You gonna be around?"

Eddie nods. Alex gives him a crooked smile and then tears his eyes away, turning to face Link. "Okay. I'm ready. Let's go."

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


It takes a few seconds for Mike to turn from Rhett and see them at the door to the meeting room. His breathing starts to pick up speed, a desperate, sudden, destructive wall of emotion crashing down on his head, his eyes wide with fear and anguish and hope. For one, horrible moment it looks as though he might crumple, and then Alex is across the room in six steps and reaching out to wrap his arms around Mike's middle, the force of his determined grip enough to push Mike's back up against the wall with a thump, his own arms winding around Alex's neck tightly. 

"Mike, Mike, _Mike_," Alex intones over and over, fiercely, as Mike's fingers delve into his hair, holding him so close, their heads buried together. "Oh my god, Mike..."

"Alex," Mike says simply, his voice cracking right in between the two syllables, his voice choked with tears. "Alex, I love you so much, man, I _love_ you..."

Alex pulls back enough to take Mike's face in his hands, his eyes searching every inch of Mike's face with a frantic, desperate need to drown in his presence, his thumbs running through the wet streaks under Mike's eyes, his fingers brushing long, dark hair back behind Mike's ears. "I love you too," he breathes. "I can't believe you're here, I can't believe...I get to _look_ at you again. You're so fucking beautiful, man, how've I _lived_ without you so long..."

Mike kisses him, then, a soft, urgent press of lips that Alex falls into so easily, tilting his head as they clutch at each other, Mike's hands buried in the front of Alex's sweater, that soft, black wool wrapped around pale, busted fingers.

They stand there together, breathing unevenly, holding each other up. Mike presses his nose to the side of Alex's head, a hand curled possessively around the back of his neck.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he whispers, eyes closing with deep regret. "I thought they killed you."

Alex's fingers stroke across the faint, dark stubble along Mike's jaw. "I just stopped living anyway, man. I couldn't deal without you."

"What're we gonna do?"

"I don't know, Mike," Alex says, his voice so fucking tender. "I don't know. Just lemme hold onto you, okay?"

And Mike does.

Alex finds his mouth again, and nudges him into another soft, slow kiss.

  
  
  
***  
  
  
  


Word gets around _fast_ that something big's happening somewhere in the building, but there's enough confusion and rumour-mongering that they have time to get the hell out of there before anyone finds them. Rhett stands outside the room and blocks the glass panel in the door, helpfully directing a couple of interested parties towards the ninth floor, claiming to have heard that's where it was all going down. 

"Guys?" Link says quietly. "We need to go."

"Go where?" Mike asks as Alex pulls away from him, only far enough to hold one of his hands tightly. "What's the plan, here?"

"You're coming back to our place," Link says, glancing through the glass panel towards the solid barricade that is Rhett's back. "Stevie wants you to stay here with us overnight and have the space you need so you can talk to her tomorrow."

Alex glances at Mike, who nods at him. "Okay," Alex says, reaching up to wipe the sleeve of his sweater across his face. "Let's get outta here, guys."

Link taps on the glass and waits for the nod from Rhett before opening the door, beckoning for the other two to follow. There's a pair of elevators at the end of the corridor and one of them's ready and waiting, allowing them to make it in without being seen. Link presses the button for the twelfth floor and then they wait, the oppressive silence of the elevator pushing them back and away from each other and against the sides, hands holding the rails as exhaustion begins to creep over all four of them. Link looks between them, one by one. Despite the emotional thrashing life's provided over the last twenty-four hours, he still feels love settling deep in his chest, more than anything else. He finds Rhett looking back at him, tired and handsome, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up over his forearms, the top couple of buttons undone, a small, gentle smile on his face. Link returns it, knowing his heart's probably blazing out his eyes and not caring. He's long since given up trying to hide his feelings from the rest of the world, his southern-boy sensibilities taking a backseat in the face of his bone-deep adoration of the tall drink of water he calls his partner.

By his side, Mike is gazing across at Alex with much the same reverence, brown eyes meeting blue across that small space, so connected they're almost drowning in each other's innate, tangible emotion. Thoughts of mental health cross Link's mind as he considers how their reunion could affect the pair of them, having to talk it all through with Stevie, having to talk to their old friends, even just talking to each other. Being back in the same building where Alex felt he'd lost everything.

Link reaches out to his side and finds Mike's hand, slotting their fingers together carefully and catching his attention, a small, lopsided smile that makes his heart sing. Opposite him, Rhett does the same, his long fingers practically engulfing Alex's hand.

They stand there and watch the floors light up, clinging on to each other as they get closer to sanctuary.

Just for a minute - one long, insulated, intimate, muffled minute - the world outside ceases to exist.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

>   
  
Sorry if this got a bit disjointed, it really wasn't supposed to be so long. I'm writing an epilogue to this, for all of you - including me - who'd like to know who happens when they get to the apartment.


End file.
